


Sunrise, Sunset

by Marshmallows



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 10:31:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10874925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marshmallows/pseuds/Marshmallows
Summary: Alternatively: How Siegfried Learned to Smile Again





	Sunrise, Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> This pairing came out of left field for me. The more I saw fanart though, the cuter it got and now I’m in hell because they actually compliment each other a lot o|< A soft pair: I only want happiness for the both of them.

He doesn’t know why he had agreed to this. He hadn’t taught in so long, hadn’t talked to anyone in so long that sometimes he barely registered the sounds coming out of his mouth. Here was Vane, puppy dog eyes and all, asking for his guidance. It took a second of thought, but he felt his mouth open and he heard his voice say something like ‘yes’. 

Casually, Siegfried suggested they meet at dawn. Just to test his dedication. As he sat atop his rocky perch, he wondered all the things why: why did he agree to this? Why was he here? Why Vane? Why not Lancelot? Why not Percival? Why this boy he remembers only in flickers? 

He remembered his face surely enough. He had never truly learnt Vane’s name back then, only remembered him as Lancelot’s shadow. Perhaps that was cruel of him; but Siegfried had forced himself to forget those days long gone, lest he be consumed by regret. He had once held dignity, held respect, and though those things had been thrust upon him, those were the days when he did not have to slink in shadows. Days when he hadn’t been a failure to his king and country. Days long gone. Any man would have missed that. Perhaps teaching Vane was a throw back, to remind himself of bygone days with Lancelot and Percival, days when he wasn’t alone. 

Soon enough, he saw Vane on the horizon and Siegfried felt his eyebrows raise of their own accord. Vane offered apologies for his lateness, claimed he got lost; but under the cover of his messy cape, Siegfried was smiling. The cheek muscles he had thought decayed with cobwebs and dust came to life, and Siegfried was smiling for the first time in years. 

Vane was clumsy – there was no doubt about that – youthful innocence lighting his every step. He was not natural talent like Lancelot or Percival, but Siegfried felt endeared every stumble of his way. One time, they had swapped weapons and Siegfried had thoroughly thrashed him, but Vane hadn’t faltered, only saw it as a chance to get better. It was that kind of innocence, that kind of determination that Siegfried had long forgot. 

Vane excitedly told him his plans for training: his grand plan to rescue Lancelot one day. In fact, all Vane seemed to do was compare himself with Lancelot. Siegfried saw in Vane a mirror of his past self and all the insecurities that came with it. 

“You’re more than enough,” Siegfried found himself saying, but he was only met with confusion. Alas, it was futile, but Siegfried pledged to himself to make sure he’d shine. 

The shadow had a face now: a name, a history. Siegfried grew more and more attached to this boy with a goal. So long had he only known the walls of his hideout that Siegfried had forgotten how the world worked. He had forgot how people gave each other gifts each holiday season in February and March; all these little quirks and unspoken codes that humans weaved into life. What had he done in Feendrache those days? He had forgot, he had forced himself to forget. Back then, he’d dream of the King he had failed, and despair would mire every step he’d take. Siegfried became his armour: faceless and anonymous. It was the only way he could bring himself to wake. 

The shadow was now sunshine. Every morning before he’d meet with Vane, he wanted to wake up. At first, he was confused. The joy of a new day was one that felt foreign to Siegfried’s tired, old bones. How long had it been since he allowed himself happiness? 

Hagen was only the first of many. Siegfried, a man now fallen, wondered who next would catch wind of his rebirth and drag him back down to hell. He had always been a sword, a tool to be disposed of. But here he was still, a failure, and breathing was involuntary. 

Vane, trembling slightly, reached out to Siegfried. “No no no! You’re incredible, Siegfried! You’re so cool! You’re like, beyond hero-level!” 

“You think… I’m cool?” The word was foreign on his tongue. 

As he witnessed everyone’s relieved smiles, as everyone fussed over him that day he awoke, Siegfried felt warmth in his tired bones. He was alive, still, and there were people who wanted him alive. That day, he had no cloak to hide his smile behind. 

“Watch me, Siegfried, sir!”

Siegfried smiled. It was dusk, but Vane still pushed forward.


End file.
